


Stars in the Firmament

by Shadadukal



Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-04
Updated: 2011-06-04
Packaged: 2017-10-20 03:22:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/208222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadadukal/pseuds/Shadadukal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We are held together, like stars in the firmament, with ties inseparable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stars in the Firmament

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RowanD](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RowanD/gifts).



> This is for Rowan_d, my winning bidder at Help The South, who asked for Helen & Nikola and a moment of genuine caring between them.
> 
> Many thanks to grav_ity for the beta!

Helen got out of the coach, which had seen better days, her leather boots sinking into the muddy soil. The driver removed her trunk and deposited it on the ground. She paid him handsomely. It had been a long and difficult trip. Thankfully, many people spoke German here, so she could use her knowledge of the language to be understood. In Gospić, she had talked to Nikola's uncle Petar, who had told her Nikola had gone to be with his mother's family in Tomingaj.

She had seen Nikola in February when he had come to London to give a lecture titled _Experiments with Alternate Currents of High Potential and High Frequency_. On the day before he left for Paris, the four of them had all dined together at her home. They had all pretended to ignore the conspicuous missing fifth at first, though John's absence and the circumstances thereof had been heavy in the room. But Nikola's joy at being with them again had been infectious and in the end, the evening had been extremely pleasant. She hadn't seen Nikola since he had walked out of the door with Nigel at the conclusion of the evening.

Helen knew he had successfully given one of his planned lectures in Paris, but she had later heard that the other one had been cancelled. She had made inquiries and had learned he had been called away due to his mother's failing health.

Against James's advice, but with the support of Nigel, who couldn't free himself to accompany her, she decided to travel to Croatia to be of what use she could at this painful time. It had been a long trip, days and days in trains, and then coaches. She had kept a pistol close at hand; it wasn't safe for a woman to travel alone, hence James's misgivings, which he should have known better than to express, she thought.

Helen had arrived a week after Nikola's mother's death. From his family, she had learned Nikola had fallen ill, which made no sense, as he hadn't had a day's illness since their experiment with the Source Blood. He was apparently refusing to eat, drinking only wine, and Helen knew what a disaster for everyone that might prove to be. She hadn't managed to convince them she was a friend of his until his sister had come home, Nikola having mentioned Helen and his other friends made at Oxford in his letters to her.

A stout man exited the house. She again explained who she was and why she had come. She was welcomed inside and her trunk carried into the house. She was directed to a room at the back of the house.

She knew Nikola would be dangerous if he hadn't fed in a while. She had a syringe filled with the nutrients that were usually added to the blood he drank, carried carefully next to the pistol. This would have to do until she could discreetly acquire blood for him.

Helen knocked on the door, and shook her head at the reply. The exact meaning of Nikola's answer was lost on her, but she got the gist of it. Not so easily deterred, she knocked again more firmly.

"Nikola, it's Helen. I'm coming in," she said, turning the knob.

There was some shuffling inside the room as she pushed the door open. It was dark in the room, the sole window facing north-east and it was already mid-afternoon, but there was enough light to see. Nikola was standing behind the bed, which was like a barrier between them.

He was a mess. His hair was uncombed, his face sporting a few days' growth of beard, and his clothing was dishevelled. He was wearing only trousers and an untucked half-buttoned shirt with no undershirt. She had never seen him less than impeccably groomed and was shocked at the state he was in, a true testament of his grief. He was seemingly surprised to see her, frowning as if he wasn't quite certain that she was actually here with him.

"Nigel and James send their love," she said to break the silence.

"And yet they both let you travel all the way here alone," he replied, his tone dark.

"This is not the wilds of Africa, I knew I'd be perfectly safe."

"I'm not safe to be around," he said, his tone still dangerous.

"I know that you've stopped eating, and I've brought something for you," she said, taking the syringe out.

In the blink of an eye, Nikola was standing in from of her, far too close for propriety. She raised her chin to stare into his eyes, now dark and red-rimmed.

"I don't want it," he growled.

Helen stood her ground, didn't back down in fear.

"Do you intend to let yourself starve?" she asked, putting some heat in her voice.

Nikola seemed to deflate completely, as if he had the wind taken right out of his sails. He sat down heavily on the chest at the foot of the bed.

"What have we done to ourselves, Helen?" he asked, his voice human again.

She was shocked into silence. Nikola had never questioned the experiment, never, not once, not even those first few weeks when they struggled to come up with the correct dosage for the added nutrients to feed him and the right medication to curb his bloodlust.

"Nikola?"

"They're all going to die. And I'm going to be all alone."

Helen finally understood the full depth of his depression, what his loss truly meant. It threw into sharp relief a fear she might one day have to share.

"You won't be," she corrected, sitting down beside him. "You'll have me and Nigel and James."

"For how long?"

"As long as we'll hold on, and we're never letting you go." Somehow, she found she believed her own words.

He didn't answer.

"Nikola, please take this," she said, once more presenting the syringe to him.

He looked over at it. Then he sighed and pushed his sleeve up, baring his forearm. She looked back up into his eyes before she injected him.

"Now, I'll go arrange for some blood while you shave and change clothes. And for goodness's sake, take a bath before you do either," she said rising.

Mentioning the way he smelled wasn't lady-like, but she was a doctor and hygiene was a concern she could mention to patients.

Even in the minimal light, she noticed Nikola's slight blush, a sure sign of how embarrassed he was to appear in such a state before her, something he hadn't cared about earlier, but now did.

"I'm sorry for my attire, Helen, or lack thereof." He grimaced, standing as well.

"It's all right, I understand," she replied, squeezing his hand. "When I was a girl, after my mother's death, I hid under the bed, refusing to be put into the black dress for the funeral, somehow convinced that if I didn't go, my mother would come back. I had to be physically dragged out."

He squeezed her hand back, and she smiled at him, before turning around and leaving the room.

+++

It was now evening, and Nikola was pacing around his room. He had bathed and shaved, combed his hair properly and dressed with all the required garments as opposed to just enough for decency.

He could hear his mother's family, _his_ family, move around the house. Dinner was ready, he could smell it, but Helen still wasn't back, and they all waited for their guest. Nikola had avoided people as best he could since Helen's departure. Now that he wasn't wilfully not eating anymore, he realized how hungry he actually was, and hoped Helen would hurry back.

Five minutes later, he heard the front door open and it wasn't long before there was a knock on his door.

"Come in!" he said in English, knowing it was Helen.

Helen smiled at him, and then took a bottle of blood out of her bag.

Cow's blood, but he was too hungry to complain about it.

"Feeling better?" Helen asked after he was done.

"Yes," he replied simply and then, taking a deep breath, he added: "Thank you, Helen."

She smiled again, and then surprised him by stepping closer and drawing him into her embrace. It was wholly improper, the way her curves were pressed against his body – she had it seemed decided to travel without a corset – her cheek brushing his. Still he hugged her back, and took comfort in her closeness.

"Do you want to come out and share dinner with your family?" she whispered.

He nodded, knowing she would feel it, even if she couldn't really see.

Helen stepped back, and he let her go, even though a part of him wanted to keep his arms around her forever.

"Shall we?" she asked.

He smiled, his first in over a week, and extended his arm out to her.


End file.
